Blue, Blue, Black
by Balshumet
Summary: Blue shine, blue liquor, black mood. Blue lights, blue paper, black humor. Bruises, jackets, and armor. Blue, Blue, Black.


**Balshumet: Ok so this is my first foray into the wonderful world of Undertale. If any readers of mine haven't actually played or seen someone play the game, I highly recommend it. I mean, I know some people in the fandom have never actually played or seen the game, which is amazing to me, because wow what fandom reach eh? Making someone a fan of something when they have no actual contact with the source material. That's awesome.**

 **Warnings: Yeah ok so this is definitely a T16+ sort of thing. This story is dark and sad, and I'm a jerk for writing it, but it needed to happen. The plot wouldn't leave my head. So you know warnings for cursing, alcoholism, intrusive thoughts, depression and uh pain and suffering. This is a hurt with literally no comfort. It's also not directly canon complaint. What canon it takes places in is uh, the one for the AU fancomic me and my friends are making. Some "this happened" background past stuff from Underloved AU. It makes sense without it, but you know, just being up front about it.**

 **Disclaimer: I, Balshumet, am not Toby Fox. I do not make money from this, nor do I own the copyright for Undertale. This is a labor of love, and presented totally free of charge for the enjoyment of other fans.**

 **Enjoyment in this case being me laughing over joining me on the sad pain train. See you at the bottom.**

* * *

 **Blue, Blue, Black**

* * *

I fumble for the light switch. It must be here somewhere... even though the walls feel unfamiliar and rough. Something cloying and bitter rolls up from the space below, a hard to name mix that makes my stomach pitch. Gods, if I wasn't so angry that I'd grind my teeth to dust, the smell alone would run me back up the stairs. More stone, no light switch. I'm half tempted to just summon up some magic when finally my hand slides over something smooth and cold. Light switch.

Light spills down the stairs and into the lab, bouncing off dulled metal and duller stone. Everything has a softer glow and a bluer cast down here. That used to be neat...a very long time ago.

I hate blue.

I hear the scuffing sounds of my feet retreating before I register that I'm sliding back. No. No! I'm doing this now, it has to happen.

My tread is heavy on the stairs, the muffled echo matching the pounding growing fury in my skull. With every step down, the anger only increases. He'd promised. He meant it this time, or he said he did. He said a lot of things, and almost none of it was actually true, even if we both wanted it to be.

I jump the last stair. It's half rotted out. The dent from the last time I'd climbed up was still there. Still there...

I can feel hot claws raking down my spine. He hasn't moved more than a foot since I last spoke to him. There were piles of...something that might have been food once cluttered up and over what was at one time a nice metal desk. The phantom sheen from cleaner days drifts across my memory. This place is so filthy rats probably wouldn't make a nest...Not even the scary magical ones that used to live here. I suppress a gasp when I notice a very dead mundane rat carcass flopped next to one of the piles of trash. Don't need to breathe any deeper than I have to here. Gods forbid the smell knock me out into the trash piles...I wonder if he'd even rescue me before the garbage ate me?

Despite making enough noise to wake the dead and the semi-comatose alike, he hadn't so much as budged. Luckily, monsters turn into dust when they die, so it's not like I could come back to a dead body...benefits to being monsters. Sitting next to him on the desk, in the only remotely clear area was a pretty blue glass bottle. A fetching shade of indigo that made my vision white out from rage. Fucking blue. The only thing he never forgets or discards.

"Sans, we need to talk." I said that pretty loudly, I thought...but still he didn't wiggle. I'd taken to avoiding screaming. It started setting him off...I don't know when-making it worse. Fuck that. I can't make it worse.

"SANS!" He _finally_ shifts, mumbling something. I wait, nothing coherent is forthcoming. He mumbles again, and I make most of it out. "No, I'm not going anywhere. We're having a discussion."

Sans looks like he's going to roll over closer towards a desk trash pile. "SANS!"

* * *

"What goddamn it?" I lift my head off the desk. Fuck. It's absolutely pounding. I can _hear_ my brother glaring at me. Gods. The hangover is never this bad-oh. The screaming right. He's still screaming. I should say something. I rub my palms under my eye sockets. Fuck right the grime. I should clean...when...what _is_ that-

Something grabs me and twists me around. Paps. Right. The _noise_. I take a deep breath and try to focus. Hard to do, but hey I've done harder. "Hey Paps...you look..." I trail off and take in his expression. "Extra pissed. Don't tell me, um, the trash right?"

"No Sans, not the trash."

That leaves me stumped. I mean trash; I can understand that, especially considering the grime I just accidently smeared everywhere. Oh, longer thoughts. _Great_. Means my head is clearing, probably. "So...?" Leading questions are second best to figuring out what the problem is beforehand. Haven't been so good about getting ahead of problems since... _Papyrus head dissolves into dust while the rest of him slowly follows_. Heh...a _head_. God that's funny. Funnier than when it actually happened. I watch him take a deep breath, and scrunch his face. Oops, yeah sorry bro.

"Sans...I-I didn't come here to talk about trash, although the particular odor of this room is overwhelming. I came to-do you know what _day_ it is?"

He paused. I pondered. Don't do a lot of that these days. "Mmmmm Wednesday?"

"Why do you always answer Wednesday whenever I ask?"

I shrug and make the mistake of leaning back; goo from that last pint of ice cream squishes against my shirt. "It's my favorite day, comes right after Tuesday, as long as I behave myself." Heh. He hasn't punished me to relive that Tuesday in a good while. Maybe he can't anymore? What a miracle that would be...almost as much as...I reach out for the blue bottle next to me. It'll be easier to focus with...

I can still hear the crash reverberating inside my skull. _Reverberating_. Oh bigger words too, goody. I frown and look over at Papyrus again. "Hey, you know that's good stuff. I mean, if you wanna smash bottles, I've got some cheaper stuff in th-"

"Sans..."

"-Or well...maybe it's not that cabinet...can't recall. An-"

"SANS..."

"-It's not that big a deal, there's some uhh, under in this drawer but-do you think your voice could go below an eight Paps?"

"SANS BONES, if you don't shut up and listen to me, I'm going to find every damn bottle of liquor in this house and smash them in front of you!"

Ok. That's entirely uncalled for. "Wow, ok, so. I guess we're doing this again."

"Again?!"

"Yeah sure!" I smile. I'm sure it's icier than I mean it to be. "You know where you-the drinking? You try to tell me not to drink. We've had that conversation before...at least I think we have on this go around the merry go around...haven't we?" I stop and stare off at the wall a second. Things start getting definite edges. Shame. "We have!" I turn back towards him. "You uhh, there was a pizza last time, and you threw it. Landed on the roof-hysterical. Almost as funny as-"

"This isn't like that time."

"Ok." I'm incredulous. Oh, way too fucking sober if I'm able to think of the word _and_ feel and an emotion that complex. Damn.

"Or any of the other times...and no it's **not** Wednesday! It's Sunday."

I laugh, harsh and carrying the wheeze I'd picked up lately. "Can't be Paps."

"Why? Because it's your least favorite day?"

He's mocking me. Oh _joy_. "No, because Sunday is the uh-Saturday is your birthday. If it was Sunday then I'd be recovering from that wicked party Undyne is gonna throw. And as you can see," I gesture to my unwashed and grungy state, "this is not 'after party' Sans."

Paps looks more angry than when I started. "Besides, I couldn't miss your birthday bro, I set like four alarms, even _**I**_ can't sleep through that, and," I drawled, "I'm not done with your present because it's Thursday," I chuckle, " _not_ Wednesday, I know it's not Wednesday...Still need to make a few adjustments today before I wrap it." I reach down and come back up with the wrapping paper, still clean thank you, and waggle it at him. "If you are trying to trick me into revealing your present buster, you're gonna have to do bet-"

The wrapping paper is on the ground. Soaking in the spilled Glow Sprites all wilting up. I'd put in some effort to find that paper _and_ keeping it clean, Paps' favorite color was blue after all.

"Ok, what the hell? Now that's actually ruined...I don't know if I have more o-"

"I. Don't. Give. A. **Shit. Sans**!"

Well, now he has my attention. I don't think I've ever seen him this mad...uh in any turn actually. Maybe I did miss his birthday? But...I couldn't...I was-

"Today's really Sunday isn't it?" There was a growing black pit of dread in my middle while I waited for him to answer.

* * *

I could feel the ache in my jaw growing. "Yes. Sans." I grit out and wait the frankly absurd amount of time it takes for things to filter through the booze haze and into his head, and then triple that for things to come back out again. Sometimes I think he thinks he's actually responding promptly. Other times, I'm sure he's verbally dragging his feet to spite me. Like I'd just give up and go away if he waited long enough. I don't think this is one of those times though.

"Oh."

That's all he manages before looking away at the wall behind what used to be a desk. I wait. He'll get around to the rest of a response eventually.

"God-that's-but-I _couldn't ha-"_ All of a sudden, he stops sputtering and whirls back around to face me. "Papyrus. I'm _so_ sorry. I don't have any idea how I could have missed your birthday."

I nearly laughed at that. No idea. Is he serious? I watched him visibly swallow, smearing more grime across his face with his hands, apparently forgetting all about the filth still on them for a moment.

"Fuuuucck. Ok. This is a serious fuck up on my part, and I owe you big time."

"Owe me?" I carefully modulate my angry question below scream level. "You didn't forget to walk me back from Royal Guard training for the fiftieth time, or lose my favorite scarf in the never ending trash disaster that is this room, or even spend your entire paycheck on the Blue Nonsense again, you forgot my birthday-"

"Paps-"

"Again!" This time he blinks at me, obvious confusion crossing his face. "Yes Sans, for the third year in a row. The third time you promised me you'd not just show up, but do so without being half drunk and/or pants-less. Only this time you didn't bother to show up at all! I'd be chiding you for that, except I realized I was actually _relieved_ you didn't show up. Why do you ask?" He doesn't in fact ask. I don't give him time to, "because at least you can't embarrass me this year like you have the last...Gods _five_?"

"U-"

"Shut up! I'm not done yet!" I'm seething. The grinding is starting up again. "I'm so _tired_ Sans. I'm not doing this anymore. This...thing-dance-stupid merry-go-round with you and the alcohol and my expectations. Every time, I let you talk. I let you convince me, woo me into thinking- **believing** you'll change. Oh, you change all right; the only change you've ever made is getting worse!" I take a deep breath and unclench my fists. "This is not an ultimatum those never work-never have worked. Maybe if I'd actually stuck to them before, but that doesn't matter now. I'm here to tell you that I'm done."

"Done?" He cuts in again, eyes wide and something that reminds me of panic forming in his eyes.

"Yes, I'm done. I'm done with this, and I'm done with you. I'm moving out. I'm moving in with Undyne. I mean, she can spare the space for now-" The harsh breathy wheeze, all roughened vocal chords and the fluid filled lungs that swallowed up my brother's hearty laughter fills the air. I feel a distinctive snapping sensation inside. Blue melancholy all drowned in black rage.

"What in the fuck could possibly be funny about this?"

* * *

My sides are beginning to scream from how hard I'm laughing. I was almost worried for a second there. Gods, here I was thinking he was seriously going to throw down, and he's just going to pout over at Undyne's place for a spell. Ah right, he asked about the laughing.

"Heh, I'm sorry bro, it's just that-I mean you probably won't think this is funny. I just had the most wicked deja vu, from...it was from-well you don't remember this. Anyway, the point is, I was remembering the shenanigans you and Undyne usually get into when you're together, and I was imagining you actually _living_ together. Do you think you'll set the kitchen on fire this time with your cooking or-"

"Sans..."

"-or maybe that disaster with the bathroom flooding over and the **entire** front room was-"

"-SANS!"

"-Ok no I'm sorry. This really isn't a good time for that, but you asked what was so funny so-"

"Do you think I'm stupid?!"

What a completely nonsensical question. Papyrus wasn't the kind of smart that won Nobel prizes, but he had the kind of smarts that kept a house running or an organization together. Lots of emotional smarts. Maybe I shouldn't have left so much for him when I was born, I could use some of that probably. "Papyrus, you're the smartest person I know."

"Well, at least you aren't lying about thinking that, but I _know_ you think I'm just going over to Undyne's to cool off or something. I'm **not** Sans. I've already got most of my stuff over there from the last few times that I just haven't moved back. Most of the stuff is packed that's left. I didn't come down here to argue or convince, just tell you I'm going. I'll be moved out by tomorrow. You'll have the place to yourself, so I expect the trash disaster to migrate throughout the house, well _your_ house."

Paps keeps talking. Something sneering about dying from food poisoning and lucky monsters can't get bubonic plague, but it's just slowly turning into white noise. The low level static inside my head just crescendos until it's all I hear. My brother's mouth keeps moving, and he has the most **serious** expression I've ever seen on his face. His hands are practically glued to his chest, crossed in front of him, and rarely migrate to his hips and then back again. When did he stop gesturing all over the place? What happened to the poses?

Those are new shoes, gloves too. The black metal in the boots remind me of the Royal Guard, but his final exams aren't until next year in the Spring, and it's Summer now. Because his birthday was yesterday, and he's not going to graduate-no the graduation party was...did I go to that? Yeah because Drunk Bunny and I made out in a corner after splitting that fifth of Vodka. Human liquor barely does anything anymore, don't know why I bothered...

He's still talking, the white noise is all pervasive, but he looks so disappointed I half-bother trying to read lips. Bills coming up, groceries-just bought milk-eat laundry detergent-bathroom tub-Sans...SANS! Oh right my name...

"Yes?" I think I'm floating away. When did I get so far away from the room?

He sighs and pinches where a nose would be on a human. At least that is still the same. "Sans, I'm going to finish packing now. I'm going...to leave a set of notes to help get you oriented...into doing things...again so...what is with that weird expression?"

Expression? Face. Right. I have one of those. I'm making a face..."I...am I?" I feel like this would be a great time for a pun. Too bad I can't think of anything right now.

"Are you what, Sans?"

The floaty feeling is worse and there's this weird grey black pressing in everywhere. I should be upset, I think I should be, shouldn't I? "I have no idea." It's the best I can manage right now. Then everything snaps back into place, all vivid colors and raw cutting edges. "No. I do have an idea. Let me ju-"

"No Sans. No bargains. No promises."

He doesn't sound angry, he doesn't look angry. Why isn't he angry? He was mad earlier. The tiles jerk onto a tilted angle. Was I moving? Did I imagine that? "Not a bargain I swear, not a promise either. Those I tend to break and the other I'm not so good at holding up the other end." I pause and the grey comes rushing back swallowing up everything but the bright gun metal shine and black of his Royal Guard armor.

"Ok?"

"I'm...I'm just gonna beg instead."

"Oh Gods no."

* * *

I had thought we could get through this conversation like adults, but why would I think that? Sans hasn't acted like a reasonable adult in years, maybe well before the alcohol became the only thing he paid attention to. "Please just don't. You're not going to change my mind-"

"-Heh, you haven't even let me start yet. You don't know that."

"I know that because my mind is made up. This isn't some willy nilly decision, I'm making, I'm-I-" I take a breath, and feel it rattle out of my chest and vibrate through the armor. Gods it's worse saying it out loud. "I'm cutting you out of my life Sans. I'm not just moving out, or giving you the silent treatment. I'm not going to be...interacting with you anymore. For my own sanity, and safety." Now, _now finally_ , he's mad. I watch his face do an impressive series of contortions.

"The fuck you are! You don't have to live with me, and you certainly don't have to be bothered running behind me to make sure I get anything done, but you can't just ignore my _existence_. Fucking fuck that nonsense."

"Sans, stop that."

"No, fucking no I will not just calmly 'discuss' you wanting to pretend I don't exist. What a bunch of absolute bullshit."

"I thought you were going to beg me to stay?"

"I'm not going to beg you to remember I'm your brother!"

"...You aren't."

"Fucking excuse me? Since fucking when? Some cosmic alignment happened without my notice? 'Ah pardon me Sans Bones, but it seems we've changed our mind. You **don't** have a brother, he got lost in the shuffle when we were doing the fannyho over the median zenith for the horoscope. Our apologies, signed the fucking Universe.'" He stands up, absolutely radiating fury. "Did that fucking happen? Did I just miss the memo?"

"I'm not _doing_ this with you. This isn't up for discussion. This isn't an argument."

"You're fucking right it's not! You can't just wave your hands and tell all our friends 'hey so I don't have a brother anymore, cool?'"

"You don't have any friends Sans..." He practically growls and goes stomping from one end of the trash enclosed space to the other.

"Even if you're right and I don't, that doesn't make a lick of difference."

"Why should I have to be stuck with you and your utter-ridiculous-I'm not _arguing_ with you!"

"Oh yeah so inconvenient for you, can't imagine. Must be so complicated and difficult.-"

"Sans...-"

"-to just throw a curtain over my general existence and go 'nothing to see here folks, pay no attention to the raving drunken embarrassment-"

"sans..."

"-that infects my life like a virulent plague, besetting my household with never-ending gales of shame and-"

"..."

"-woe beyond all imagining. Such is the burden of my existence that I should have to acknowledge kindred blood with a-"

He's still going probably, but I just tuned him out. One of his anger fed guilt trips is not what I signed up for today. Trying to interrupt him before he's finished is pointless, it only makes it last longer.

* * *

This was not happening. The despair was so thick I was choking on it. Or maybe that was panic...or the screaming. I couldn't catch my breath. This wasn't happening. He couldn't just _forget_ about me. Something raw and desperate clawed at the base of my skull. I've been screaming at him for at least five minutes and he hasn't even said anything. I feel something shaking and racing threatening to bubble up my throat. The roaring in my ears and the pitching in my stomach-This isn't happening.

"Papyrus... _say_ something!" He blinks at me, the frown he'd adopted since he started talking to me deepening, twisting up his face. It looks like it's practically etched into his bone. Does he smile anymore?

"Are you...finished Sans?"

Yes. No. Both? Neither. Finished with what? "I-sure. Yes." It was getting hard to focus again. Heh. Exertion does that nowadays.

"Ok Sans. I'm going back upstairs to finish packing now." He pivots, armor shifting with him. He used to be able to barely lift a sword, when did armor get so light? He's stalking towards the stairs carefully working around the mess. He's-

"No. No wait. Listen I'm _sorry_. I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to be so mad. Please-just-if I promise I won't yell anymore. Just stay?" The fucking grey black is returning, like something is trying to suck me out of the fabric of the Universe.

I'm across the room at the base of the stairs, he's already climbing them. "Paps...Paps listen to me ok? I'll do anything you want. I swear. We'll dump every bottle together." I'm waddling up the stairs after him. Gods my legs are swollen, what I get for not keeping them up higher before I passed out. I'm halfway up and he's already at the top. "Listen bro, I'm begging here. You don't have to stay. You can yell all you want. You can spend the entire time cursing me out and reminding me what a sack of shit I am. Please just don't ignore me. I- _please_ I can't-Papyrus if you do, it'll be like I never existed!" I'm running out of words, breathing is harder after vaulting up the stairs.

I stop to catch my breath. He still hasn't turned around. The light is so harsh up here I can barely stand the gleam off his armor. Everything is all harsh contrasts. The light softer blue of the basement, the grungy dark blue of my jacket, the black shine of the metal.

"Couldn't you just hang out with your...friends instead of me?"

"Oh Gods, I don't have _friends_ , and we both know it! That was just," I pause and take another deep breath, "angry, deflecting nonsense. I didn't mean that, I didn't mean, most of that. The part about not existing yeah mostly, but all that-I'm not mad. I wasn't even yelling at you so much as the idea. I-Paps what do I have to do to get you to stay in my life?" With the grey black in my vision, everything is bleached near white in the brighter wash of light up here.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? But-"

"-There's absolutely nothing you can do or _say_ that will make me stay right now, or probably ever. Barring you actually kicking alcohol forever, but you've already promised that six times, and I don't believe you. Maybe you will, and I'll reconsider interacting with you then, but I expect results and not promises."

"Ok."

"OK?" He whirls around looking genuinely menacing. Stupid armor.

"Yeah ok, that's fair. I should, let me make a list." I shuffle over towards the kitchen table, or where it was last time I was upstairs.

He sighs audibly. "A list of what Sans?"

"The booze hiding spots of course. Oh and everything I remember I haven't finished off yet, and a couple things that aren't technically alcohol but work the same. Then, we can-"

" _All_ of the hiding spots?"

"Yeah even the ones in the crawl space of the roof." I smile. He doesn't look remotely convinced. That's fine. I can be convincing. I can even convince myself that it's worth it to try sometimes. He's looking vaguely angry again, and I'm not sure why. Did I forget something? "Oh, and the pay check right. That's yours, that way I can't trip back into debauchery while I get over the worst of the initial...um...the...Paps?"

"I see. You mean like this list here?" He holds a smudged looking piece of paper with wet black ink spatters everywhere in my face. Definitely my handwriting, or it was before I started to get the shakes all the time.

"Yeahhh..." I trail off.

"Or no maybe like this one here?" Another piece of paper. Newer. Neither of them have all of the actual spots on the list. What was I thinking lying like that? Or did I just make new spots? I get the sinking suspicion that's the answer. He crumples up both of them and drops them onto the floor.

"Let me make this as clear as I can for you. Even if you are entirely serious about wanting to do this, why should I have to be bothered babysitting you to make sure you don't backslide? Better question, what makes you think I'm invested enough to care?"

"Um...?" Oh, really eloquent. Someone might mistake me for the former Royal Scientist or something. "That's-"

"Ok. So here's the thing, I'm not going to be responsible for you getting it together. If you love me and you really _really_ want to change, more than you love alcohol, then you'll put yourself together on your own, _whether or not_ I ever speak to you again. I'm not some consolation prize you can earn and then backslide on when you get complacent, and I'm getting off the merry-go-round now Sans."

I start to feel tingly all over. Bad tingles. "There's really nothing I can do is there?"

A grinding sound builds up in the silence. Man, he still grinds his teeth when he's mad.

"You know, this isn't about _you_ and your issues for once. If by some miracle you actually stop spiraling into alcoholic slow suicide, don't try and contact me. _If_ I ever want to speak to you again, I'll contact you. I'm going to pack now." And with that, he stomps off farther into the house.

I should go after him, or plead my case, or bar the door, or shit, I could stop him. I'm a drunken wreck, but I'm still a better fighter than he is. But, and I learned this a long time ago, I don't have any power over the major shit in my life. OJ or Apple with breakfast? Sure. Vodka or Gin? Definitely. When I get to die? No. Stopping a likely genocidal maniac from killing the essential magic in the world? Nope. I probably can't even stop Papyrus from leaving the house. Why bother trying?

I'm downstairs again, and there's an aggressive stomping upstairs. Did he expect I'd still be there after he'd said every way he knew how that it didn't matter? Or maybe the hangover headache is just getting worse and I'm sensitive to sound. Well, that lovely blue bottle of Glow Sprites is in the drawer-was in the drawer. It should fix…everything I actually have the power to change.

* * *

 **Balshumet: Ok I've never written in first person before, but the uh subject matter and situation demanded it. I've also never written these characters before, and would love to know how I did. As for the AU this is a part of, hopefully my friend and I can get ourselves together and get the first of the fancomic out soon. Because it's a good one I think, or it will be. Anyway, thanks for reading, and as always my lovelies R &R.**


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